kmkat and her kneedles

Words to live by.

 ...especially when dealing with hedge fund K-1s.

Here is my printout of the sign hanging by my desk (in a place where it is not immediately obvious to everyone walking by -- never a good idea to broadcast one's ignorance at work). I had to print it in b&w and go after it with colored markers.

See that bag of Udi's granola on the desk? It came with a story. Let me tell you it. 

I stopped at the grocery store on the way home from work* last night to pick up some breakfast and snack and dinner provisions. I was idly watching the screen on the checker's terminal while she scanned the items and noticed a $634 total at the bottom of the screen. At first I thought that must be a shift total or her personal total on that machine, but as I scanned the column of scanned-in prices I saw that my bag of granola came in at...

...

...

...

...

(wait for it)

...

...

...

$618!

I pointed that out and she rescanned it, with the same result. She did a price check, same result. But this time she was laughing and telling the other checkers about my $618 bag of granola. Apparently the price had been input wrong on the front end. In all the hysteria and laughing and trying to correct the error she reversed the entry for a box of crackers (normal price of $2.42), but I was so disgustingly honest I pointed it out.

* Yes, Smokey is well enough now that I can leave him for days at a time. He walks with just a cane now, has been able to cut way back on the pain meds, and will probably return to work sometime in the next month.

Munday mutterings. On Thursday.

1. Tenure :: forever
2. Baptism :: by fire
3. Holders :: cards
4. Irritation :: always
5. Academics :: never again
6. Mug :: coffee!!!
7. Charge :: account
8. Percent :: off
9. Clears :: the hurdle
10. Selfless :: devotion NOT

Oops, I forgot to post this on Mund--, er, Monday.

* * * * *

I am back at work today, Smokey having recovered enough to be left on his own for hours at a time. He has been handling his own meds for several days, can walk limited distances with his walker and even more limited distances without, and is largely lucid. All of which is a tremendous improvement over the state of affairs that existed for six weeks following the July 16 (first) surgery. Hurrah!

Cooties.

One night during Smokey's second stint in the hospital, two volunteers came 'round the unit. Both women were on the shady side of sixty-five, and one proudly announced that she was eighty-six. Their energy and enthusiasm and dedication to brightening the days (nights?) of the patients was remarkable, as was the fact that they were both wearing clown costumes. No red noses, though; I asked about that.

Their mission was to offer a pen and small notebook to each patient. Smokey had been wishing for some paper and a pencil earlier that day, so he was mighty pleased with their gift. Their kindness was inspiring to him.

The pen:

"Compliments Military Order of the Cootie Grand of MN"

Monday mutterings and an update.

1. View :: Room With A
2. Yoga :: Pants
3. Giggle :: snort
4. Raider :: Lost Ark
5. Summer :: Green
6. Debt :: Out of
7. Cleaning :: Yuck
8. Sneakers :: Dirty
9. Thwarted :: Plans
10. Recipes :: For disaster

Smokey the Bear update: He is on the mend. Yesterday he decided we should go out for dinner at a nearby ribs joint. He soldiered through getting dressed, going down the stairs, into the van, into the restaurant, back to the van, up the stairs, and back into bed. Guess what? He slept really really well last night :-) And today feels even better. Still spends a good part of the day in bed, though, partially because Oxycodone every four hours and Valium every six tends to make him extremely sleepy.

The next challenge is whether we will be able to get organized enough to go on vacation in two days. Stay tuned...

Bing bang.

• I brought Smokey Bear home from the hospital last night. 
• He was there for seven days.
• All week the lab results had indicated possible problems with his kidney function. (Elevated creatine level, thanks for asking.)
• Yesterday's lab was A-OK, thus the release from confinement.
• Yay!
• He is taking antibiotics for the infection, oxycodone (~Percocet) for the pain, and Valium for the nausea. 
• They all seem to be accomplishing their intended purpose. 
• Yay!
• He has asked for soda crackers and a barf bag a couple times but has not needed the latter.
• Yay!
• Younger Son was back at work Wednesday. 
• He too had the nausea reaction to oxycodone, but only to the first dose.
• Yay!
• I don't want to jinx anything, but it seems that life might just be headed in the right direction again.
• YAY!

Photo is Ser Percival The Energetic, Younger Son's and BFE's dog, *making friends* with the cat in the window.

PSA.

I came across this article today. Given that Younger Son  could have been killed last Friday night when he was [sort-of] T-boned on his bike, the timing seemed apropos.

How Not To Kill A Cyclist.

Update on YS's condition: he was sore all weekend but went to work on Monday, planning to take it easy that day -- no running up and down stairs or moving electronic equipment from one studio to another. But by the end of the day, walking was becoming increasingly painful. He went to emergency room at Hennepin County Medical Center where, after the normal wait of six-plus hours (he was not having a heart attack or in danger of bleeding out, after all), he was seen, x-rayed, assured that he had not fractured anything, and sent home with Percoset. Elder Son and I had been visiting Smokey at the VA hospital that afternoon, so we brought YS some dinner and hung out with him for a couple hours in the ER waiting room before driving back to Wisconsin. 

YS called this morning to update me on the ER visit. He went to work this morning but soon found that the Percocet-induced nausea (he is his father's son, after all) was not gonna go away so he went back home.

Update on Smokey: he called this morning to say he thought he would be released today. I am still waiting for his confirmation and the order to Please come get me please as soon as possible get me out of here I want to come home.

Update on the update: Smokey just called again. The Powers That Be have said, Maybe tomorrow.

Thank you all for your kind words and thoughts and sharing your knowledge. I am so, so grateful to still have a husband and both sons.

Bang, redux.

• The second surgery on Friday went fine.
• Elder Son and I went to see Smokey on Saturday.
• He was much, much, much better.
• He will probably come home Monday or Tuesday.
• Our annual reservation at a campground on the North Shore starts a week from Wednesday.
• It now appears we might just be able to go.
• Smokey is pretty sure he can recuperate better and faster listening to the sounds of Lake Superior.
• I hope he is right.
• Elder Son's visit home at this time has been a godsend.
• Tis very handy having a doctor in the house.
• Younger Son was hit by a car last night while riding his bike.
• Hit from the side, but the car hit his back wheel, not him.
• He is mostly okay, nasty scrapes on his knees and to a lesser extent his elbows.
• He doesn't remember the actual crash but remembers flying through the air thinking, I don't remember hitting the ground.
• And then hitting the ground. He landed on his right kidney.
• The driver and passenger were very concerned. Called 911 immediately.
• Police, ambulance, and fire truck (fire truck? why a fire truck?) were there within a minute or two.
• He was put into the ambulance and checked over.
• After a few minutes his blood pressure dropped rather precipitously, and they made him lie down.
• But he was okay and did not need to go to the hospital.
• Elder Son explained what happened with the blood pressure.
• When one has a surge of adrenalin (the fight-or-flight response of the sympathetic nervous system), it also stimulates the parasympathetic nervous system (which generally promotes the maintenence of the body at rest (cribbed from Wikipedia because I can't remember exactly the terms ES used). But sometimes the parasympathetic response overshoots the mark, resulting in the drop in blood pressure.
• And that is my paraphrase of what the expert said.
• YS is stiff and sore today and needed a bit of help to get up from his chair at dinner
• Mainly I am supremely happy that YS is not dead or in the hospital.
• Two family members in the hospital would be way too many. 
• Some gizmo on the car that has been marginal for a while decided to completely nutso on our way to Minneapolis today.
• It wanted the car to go 52 mph. Period.
• This was not noticeable on the highway.
• It became very noticeable when we hit a half mile of stop and (5mph) go caused by a bit of road construction on the bridge over the Mississippi.
• Repeated continual braking causes the brakes to slowly fail.
• By the last couple stop lights before the hospital I was having to stand on the brake pedal with both feet AND use the emergency brake to keep the car from creeping forward onto the car ahead of me.
• With much internal cursing and extreme driving finesse I managed to get ES and to the hospital, to YS's and fiance's apartment, to a nearby restaurant, back to the apartment, and back to Wisconsin without any mishap.
• I shall not be driving that car again until I take it to the mechanic's shop. (That would be Lennie. Remember Lennie?)

I need to clear up any possible misconceptions about Smokey's infection and the VA hospital. The VA docs and nurses and other staff and the care they gave him were in no way responsible for the infection. Smokey has for several years taken an immunosuppressant drug for his rheumatoid arthritis. He had to stop taking it for four weeks before the surgery and was not supposed to restart until at least two weeks afterward. One week post op he was having so much joint pain from the RA that he decided to take the drug. A few days later... infection. And so it goes.

Bang.

Bullets.

• Elder Son is home for three weeks between summer session and fall semester at UMich. He finished med school in May and now will take a year to get a masters degree in epidemiology before he does his residency.
• Perfect timing for his visit home.
• Smokey was not getting better this week, actually was a bit worse.
• We took him to the VA today for his 2-week post op checkup.
• It was scheduled for last Monday but he didn't feel up to it.
• He felt even worse today and complained bitterly that we forced him to go.
• Turned out he had developed an infection in the incision.
• He was admitted and had surgery this evening to clean out the wound.
• Good thing we were so persistent.
• I was so wrapped up in his care that I forgot to pay the second half of our property taxes, which was due July 31, last Tuesday.
• Gonna do that right now, if late payments are accepted online.
• kthxbai.

Drive-by bullets.

• Smokey continues to improve. Very, very slowly. 
   
• He googled "L5 fusion recovery" and found a site/BBS with posts from people with his same surgey and with recoveries that lasted weeks or months and who suffered from pain that he doesn't have.
   
• He now reminds himself how much worse it could be.
   
• Still, it will be a long, slow recovery.
   
• Boring.
   
• It has been ungodly hot and humid here.
   
• 88˚ in the house.
   
• Blech.
   
• Those of you who live where hot and humid summers are the norm and are thinking "Wimp!", imagine that you had 4 - 6 weeks in the winter where the warmest it got was -10˚F. 
   
• That is a rough equivalent of what this summer has been for us Northern types.
   
• Happily, the bedroom is air-conditioned.
   
• Sadly, the drain holes on the window air conditioner were plugged.
   
• I have used a handheld wet vac on the floor next to Smokey's bed twice. 
   
• Unplugged the drain holes yesterday.
   
• Set up two fans to dry out the carpet.
   
• Keeping fingers crossed.
   
• A miracle occurred sometime while I was sleeping last night.
   
• When I came out of the bedroom this morning, the house was comfortable.
   
• A mere 80˚.
   
• I opened the window in the bedroom and pulled back the curtains.
   
• Smokey said the sunlight and fresh air were a boost to his spirits.
   
• He generally prefers our bedroom to be more of a cave -- dark and cool.
   
• Even dark and cool can get boring.
   
• Bald eagle just flew over the yard.
   
• Life could be a lot worse.

Blogger note: I wrote this yesterday afternoon but just as I tried to preview and publish it, my mouse stopped working. For the umpteenth -- well, third -- time in as many days. Did you know that without a mouse you cannot do ANYTHING? I tried to publish it from my iPad, but hitting "Publish" there did nothing. (Why not, Typepad? When are you going to put out a mobile blogging app, huh?) My googling for solutions came to naught. Then I mentioned my problem in a comment on Erika's blog, and BINGO! she sent me a link to a troubleshooting page, from whence I fixed the problem! Her google-fu is clearly superior to mine. Thanks again, Erika!)

Yarn bomb!

Found here. The site says this is a bus in Mexico City, but the writing on the bus is either Korean or Japanese according to the comments. Nevertheless, it is an awesome yarn bomb.

* * * * *

Smokey update: he continues to improve. Occasional slight nausea, cured by small peanut butter sandwich. Pain level on slow decline. The searing leg pain, from which he has suffered increasingly over the past few years, is totally GONE! That was the main goal of the surgery; there was a pinched nerve in his lower spine that was causing it. Surgeon put a 10mm spacer between the two vertebrae that were touching and screwed it in place.

Home, home, home at last.

I brought Smokey home from the hospital today. He has a different painkiller and an anti-nausea drug, and they seem to be working. But we had a bucket and a towel in the car just in case...

The dogs were ecstatic to see him again. Right now he and both of them and probably both cats are all snuggled up in the bed sleeping. He has his laptop next to him with an internet phone; he can call our house line when he needs me. (I suggested that I give him a bucket of rocks, and he could throw them one by one at the bedroom door when he wanted me. For some reason he thought the phone was a better idea. Go figger.)

* * * * *

I would like to say a few words in appreciation of the VA hospital. I was there three times for a total of maybe six hours at most. I met three nurses, a chaplain, and a few behind-a-desk types, plus saw a lot of patients, all of them men. Although I didn't put it all together until I was walking to Smokey's room today to get him, the totality of the place is excellent. There is no arrogance, no prissy professionalism, no fake smiles, no gushiness, no flashiness -- just genuine caring and basic good manners. Underlying it all I felt a foundation of love. 

Contrast that with a typical hospital, particularly one with a bottom-line-focused administrator. (I feel I know whereof I speak, having been hospitalized [counts on fingers and toes] eight or nine times in my long life in seven different hospitals, none of them for-profit institutions.) Other hospitals, in fits of consultant-induced fervor, survey their patients incessantly to Get Feedback. Their staff are cheery beyond belief. Everyone is so professional, i.e., impersonal, that the patient is just another body. 

The contrast was particularly striking among the non-medical staff -- the cashier, the clerk in the pharmacy, the person in the family help office, even the guy behind the counter in the cafeteria. Everyone took the time to look me/us in the eye and actually listen to whatever we said. Nobody's eyes were glued to their computer screen or their paperwork during an interaction. 

Smokey was pleased that I picked up on this. "Now you can understand why I prefer to go to the VA than [our local medical facility]." He also said that there is a deep feeling at the VA of gratitude and appreciation for what the veterans have given. (It also doesn't hurt that there does not seem to be a single *special little snowflake* among the patients.)

This was the Minneapolis VA hospital, but it also holds true for the satellite clinics he has been to here in n.w. Wisconsin. We cannot speak for other VA facilities around the country, but I suspect there are similarities.

Thank you, Veterans Administration hospital of Minneapolis.

 

 

Better later than earlier.

When I got to the hospital to pick up Smokey yesterday, he was sitting in a wheelchair and puking his guts out. Morphine and oxycodone make him mega-nauseous in spite of the anti-nauseous drug the nurse had given him earlier. His pain level was still high, and he got nauseous all over again any time he moved.

So he stayed in the hospital for another night. Whew. I cannot imagine trying to drive him home (90 minute drive) with him throwing up every few minutes.

We will try again later today.

Funny story: after I finished talking to him yesterday morning I tried to call a colleague to cancel a meeting later that day; I knew I wouldn't be back in time. But my desk phone wouldn't work. I quickly figured out that Smokey hadn't hit the "End" button on  his cell at the end of the call -- like I said yesterday, he was really groggy when I talked to him. I used another phone line to call the nurses' station and ask the station secretary to go end the call for me. She and I both thought the whole thing was pretty funny. 

...and now I will have a chance to wash his bedding. Misha The Dog (whom I have not blogged about much) threw up on his bed Tuesday night. The universe sure keeps my life interesting.

News flash!

Smokey just called. He thinks* he will be released from  the hospital today so I am getting ready to drive down and get him. Two days post-op? Now, that is FAST.

* However, he was pretty groggy. I had to call the nursing station afterwards and have someone go hang up his cell phone -- apparently he forgot to hit the END button. Sure hope he had the discharge idea right...

All is well.

Smokey had his back surgery yesterday morning. I dropped him off at the hospital at 6:15am. He went immediately to the surgical unit, was anesthetized at 7:30, work up in the recovery room at 2:30, and was asleep in his hospital room when I arrived at 3:00.

Did I hang around the hospital all that time, knitting, biting my fingernails between rounds, and waiting for the surgeon to come talk to me?

No, I did not. I drove directly to our rental house in south Minneapolis with the intention of taking a nap (having gone to sleep at 12:30am and gotten up at the ungodly hour of 3:45 for the drive to Minneapolis). But as I pulled up in front of the house I remembered that our new renter -- a true handyman and DIY-type (he built his own cabin in n.e. Wisconsin) -- had, per our request, replaced the lockset on the front door... and I didn't have a key yet.

Crap.

So I hit up the neighborhood Starbucks for cappacino and yogurt and wi fi, ran some errands as soon as the stores were open, and attempted to attend a required in-office class at work. Which I discovered had been canceled as of 8:04 that morning.

Crap.

Back to the hospital to check on Smokey (still in surgery, although all I knew was that he wasn't on the unit* yet) and lunch in their cafeteria. Check again at the nursing station on the unit. Find out he is in the recovery room (whew, now I know for sure he didn't expire on the operating table, always a possibility albeit a remote one). Check in at the surgery waiting area (pictured above), knit, and wait to be told he is in his room.

Eventually I checked back at his room and found him dozing. We chatted a bit, him dozing off between sentences. I arranged the bedside table to his satisfaction and plugged in his cell phone within easy reach. Texted both sons to tell them the surgery had gone off without a hitch.**

Ate dinner at Chipotle and stopped at Target for nail polish*** on the way home. Was greeted enthusiastically by two canines who had been cooped up in the house for 15-1/2 hours but who had not done anything bad as far as I could tell.

Glass of wine and read until midnight (Turn Here, Sweet Corn by Atina Diffley, thanks for asking).

So. How was your Monday?

* Unit = what used to be called a ward.

** Elder Son, aka Dr. Jensen, had called me three times during the day to find out how things were going. Such is the burden of too much knowledge of what can go wrong. Younger Son was much more laid back about the whole thing.

*** We have reached high humidity season, the only time my nails get longer than .000001mm. I now look forward to this time of year and celebrate it with colorful nails****.

****

 

This is a rebuilding year.

You know how sports teams, when they have lost all their star players and consequently are not winning many games, they call it a "rebuilding year"?

That's what Smokey and I are having in 2012... literally.

But not in the traditional sense. More in the personal sense.

Thirty years ago Smokey fell off a ladder and hurt his back. While it has bothered him for almost the entire time since, the pain has become debilitating in the past couple years. A doctor finally x-rayed it and found that his spine looks like this:

X
X
X
X
  X
  X
  X
  X

No wonder it hurts! It seems to be pinching a nerve so is giving him all kinds of leg pain, too.

Although surgery is not necessarily the best alternative for lower back pain -- rest, pain meds, and proper exercise are -- his problem is clearly a mechanical one that can be solved by surgery. We have hopes that he will be able to resume more-or-less normal activity once he recovers from the surgery, which is scheduled for June 25, the day after his birthday.

I shall be busy this summer waiting on him hand and foot the same way he took care of me when I broke my ankle in 2008. 

Then there is me. I have been suffering from hip pain for about a year and a half. Have had several cortisone injections, which helped. Until the last one, in December, that I didn't think helped... until it wore off in March and I had significant pain. Pretty much constantly. Finally went to the ortho doc last week, they x-rayed, and said things to the effect of "oooh, I bet that smarts!" Turns out that hip is bone on bone, all natural cushioning is gone.

So once Smokey is up on his feet again, probably near the end of summer, I will be having a hip replacement. 

::sigh:: and ::hurrah!::

In the meantime the PA told me to 1, eat 50g of protein a day to ensure my muscles and other tissues are as healthy as possibly and able to heal quickly; B, try to avoid gluten and sugar, as they can promote inflammation (inflammation = pain); and iii, eat lots of dark green leafy vegies like kale, mustard greens, asparagus, and broccoli because they have the trace minerals needed to grow bone; and d, have physical therapy to see if any exercises can reduce my pain in the interval until surgery.

Now, my first thought at eating 50g of protein every day was Whoopee! This will be fun! But it turns out to be not as easy as I thought. 25g of protein is a serving of meat about the size of my fist. Imagine eating that much chicken or fish or steak or seafood twice a day. That is a lot!

The gluten and sugar avoidance will be harder, although I am doing well so far. Chris gave me some brands to look for in the store and also some to avoid. The Glutino crackers have replaced saltines in my crackers & cheese snacks. Rice, quinoa, and oats: fine. Wheat, rye, and barley: no. I bought some rice-based spaghetti that we will try and some non-gluten flour (Bob's Red Mill) that I will try substituting in baked goods. Thanks to Cookie I had already planned to buy some frozen fruit bars -- found some that were no sugar added. 

All this diet stuff will be good for both of us. Smokey is diabetic so should avoid carbs. I have a hunch that if we stick to the high protein, lots of green (and other) vegies, we will lose a few pounds, which will also be good for the surgery and long-term recovery.